


Fresh Blood (3.07)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [52]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Episode: s03e07 Fresh Blood, Gordon Being an Asshole, Screenplay/Script Format, Vampire Gordon Walker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:53:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Da brothers capture a funky-ass biatch vampire named Lucy whoz ass has no clue how tha fuck da hoe became one, which leadz dem ta Dixon, a thug vampire whoz ass be a lil too giving. Gordon returns wit a vengeizzle leavin Sam up in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

BELA approaches her car, parked by a thugged-out deserted rural bridge. As she reaches tha car, her big-ass booty startled by a reflection of a gangbangin' git into in tha window- itz GORDON WALKER.

**BELA  
** It aint nuthin but rude ta sneak up on people.

**GORDON  
** Bela Talbot.

**BELA  
** Yo ass have me at a gangbangin' finger-lickin' disadvantage. I don't give a fuck whoz ass yo ass is.

**GORDON  
** Gordon Walker.

**BELA  
** (pause) I've heard of you, biatch yo. Heard you was on lockdown.

**GORDON  
** Got out.

**BELA  
** Released early on phat behavior?

Yo, she has opened tha hoopty door n' casually reaches inside; GORDON holdz up a lil' small-ass gun.

**GORDON**  
Lookin fo' this, biatch?   
(Dude removes tha clip)  
I know you was just up in Massachusetts, n' I know you was wit tha Winchesta thugs. Tell me where they are.

**BELA  
** I don't be thinkin I know.

**GORDON**  
Yo ass don't.  
(pullin another, larger handgun on her)  
Why don't you be thinkin a lil harder?

**BELA  
** Put dat down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (Dude don't.) Whatz so pressin bout findin tha thugs, anyway?

**GORDON  
** Sam Winchesterz tha Antichrist.

**BELA  
** Mmm. I'd heard suttin' bout that...

**GORDON  
** It aint nuthin but true.

**BELA  
**... from mah phat playa, tha Easta Bunny, who'd heard it from tha Tooth Fairy. Is you off yo' meds?

**GORDON  
** Da ghetto hangs up in tha balance. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So you go ahead n' be a smart-ass yo, but tell me where they are, or I blast.

**BELA  
** Gordon, you n' I don't give a fuck each other straight-up well, so let me rap a lil suttin' bout mah dirty ass. I don't respond well ta threats yo, but you make me a offer, biatch? And I be thinkin you gonna find mah crazy ass highly cooperative.

**GORDON**  
Okay.   
(lowers tha gun)  
How tha fuck about...   
you tell me where they are,   
(raises tha gun)  
or I bust a cap up in you right now?

**BELA  
** Bust a cap up in mah dirty ass. Dope luck findin Sam n' Dean.

**GORDON**  
(grimacin up in frustrating, conceding)  
I can wrangle up three grand.

**BELA  
** I don't git outta bed fo' three grand.

**GORDON  
** You...

As he lowers his thugged-out arm, BELA sees a lil' small-ass cloth bag hangin at his belt yo. Her eyes light up.

**BELA  
** Scratch dis shit. Give me tha mojo bag, n' we'll call it even.

**GORDON  
** Oh, hell no. This thangz a cold-ass lil century old. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! It's...

**BELA  
** Priceless. Believe me, I know. Now, how tha fuck badly do you want tha Winchesters?

GORDON tosses her tha bag. BELA pulls up her cell beeper n' dials.

**BELA  
** Yo muthafucka, Dean, biatch? Yo, where is yo slick ass?


	2. ACT ONE

**EXT fo' realz. ALLEY - NIGHT**

SAM n' DEAN struttin quickly all up in a alley, shinin flashlights around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! They spot a pool of blood n' strutt over ta it, ta find a playa lyin bleedin but conscious on tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude has been bitten up in tha neck. They crouch over his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** Yo, hey. Don't worry. We gonna call you some help, aiiight?

 **DEAN  
** Where is she, biatch? Where'd she go?!

Da playa gestures vaguely down tha alley. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM stays wit tha playa as DEAN runs off up in dat direction. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude stops up in tha middle of another alley, sees no one. Dude raises his crazy-ass machete, pulls his sleeve, n' slowly draws tha machete across his fuckin left forearm, drawin blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Dude holdz tha bleedin arm up.

 **DEAN (yelling)**  
Smell that?! Come n' git dat shiznit son!  
(A lil' biatch emerges from a side alley n' stares at him; her chin is covered up in blood.)   
Thatz right. Come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I smell good, don't I, biatch? I taste even mo' betta n' shit.   
(the vampire approaches cautiously. Dude holdz up tha machete, then drops it, lurin her in.)   
Come on! Jacked lunch!

Da vampire charges; as she grabs his ass n' sinks her teeth tha fuck into his neck, DEAN whips up a syringe n' plunges it tha fuck into  _her_  neck. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch convulses n' falls ta tha ground, unconscious.

 **DEAN (panting)  
** Whoo!

SAM comes hustlin. Dude looks all up in tha hoe on tha ground, n' back at DEAN, frowning.

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Cuttin it a lil close, don't you think?

 **DEAN  
** Ah ... thatz just chum up in tha gin n juice n' shit. Worked, didn't it?

SAM looks concerned.

DEAN looks down at his thugged-out arm.

 **DEAN  
** Ow.

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY_ **

It be a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dingier room than tha Winchestas probably occupy; oldschool mattresses line tha walls, blockin up all external light. Da vampire, whose grill is still covered wit blood, is tied ta a cold-ass lil chair up in tha middle of tha room. SAM n' DEAN stand over her chair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

She comes ta consciousness, n' looks around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN (leanin over her)**  
Yo ass wit us?  
(she wakes up fully, strugglez against her bonds)  
Oh, yeah, sorry bout dat bullshit. Yo ass aint goin anywhere.

 **SAM  
** Wherez yo' nest, biatch? 

 **VAMPIRE (lookin at SAM up in mad drama)  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Yo crazy-ass nest... where you n' yo' bloodsuckin hommies hang out.

 **VAMPIRE  
** I don't give a fuck what tha fuck you poppin' off about. (SAM n' DEAN peep each other n' roll they eyes.) Please biaaatch! I don't feel good.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, you gonna feel a hell of a shitload worse if our crazy asses hit you wit another blasted of dead manz blood.

 **VAMPIRE  
** Just let me go.

 **SAM  
** (laughs) Yeah, you know we can't do that.

 **VAMPIRE  
** I be spittin some lyrics ta you tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I be just... I took something. I be freakin up son! I don't give a fuck what tha fuck be happenin!

 **SAM  
** Yo ass took something?

 **VAMPIRE**  
(freakin out)  
Yes muthafucka! I can't... come down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I just wanna come down.

 **SAM  
** Whatz yo' name?

 **VAMPIRE  
** Lucy. Please. Just let me go.

 **SAM  
** All right, Lucy, how tha fuck bout this, biatch? If you tell our asses what tha fuck happened, we'll let you go.

 **LUCY**  
Yo ass will, biatch?   
(she looks at DEAN, whoz ass nodz n' smilez up in a cold-ass lil straight-up insincere way, then blasts SAM a cold-ass lil trippin look over her head)  
Uh, I don't straight-up... um, it's, it aint dat clear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. I was at Spider.

 **SAM  
** Spider?

 **LUCY  
** Da club, on Jefferson. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. And there was dis muthafucka... da thug was buyin me drinks.

 **SAM  
** This muthafucka... whatz he look like?

 **LUCY  
** Dude was old, like thirty yo. Dude had brown hair, a leather jacket... uh, Deacon or Dixon or something. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Said da thug was a thugged-out dealer... dat schmoooove muthafucka had suttin' fo' mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** Something?

 **LUCY  
** Somethang new. "Betta than anythang you've eva tried." Dude put all dem drops up in mah drink.

 **DEAN**  
Was tha sticky-icky-icky red n' thick?  
(she nods. DEAN blasts SAM a look; SAM is bobbin his head up in disbelief)  
Well, smart-ass move there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. That was vampire blood da ruffneck dosed you with.

 **LUCY  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, you just took a funky-ass big-ass steamin' blasted of tha nastiest virus up there.

 **LUCY  
** Yo ass is crazy dawwwwg! Dude gave me roofies or something! No... Da next thang I know, we at his thugged-out lil' place, n' da perved-out muthafucka say he gonna git me suttin' ta eat, just wait. But I git so hungry.

 **DEAN  
** So you busted out?

 **LUCY**  
(nods)  
But it won't wear off... whatever he gave me son?

 **DEAN  
** Lights is too bright, biatch? Sunshine hurt yo' skin?

 **LUCY  
** Yeah.. fo' realz. And smells fo' realz. And I can...  _hear_  blood pumping!

 **DEAN  
** Well, I don't give a fuck bout ta rap this, dopeheart yo, but yo' bloodz never pumpin again.

 **LUCY (shakes her head)  
** Not mine... yours. I can hear a ass whoopin from half a funky-ass block away. I just want it ta stop.

SAM is lookin sympathetic.

 **DEAN  
** All right, listen, Wavy Gravy. It aint nuthin but not goin ta stop. You've already capped two people, almost three.

 **LUCY  
** (sobbing) Fuck dat shit, I couldn't. No-! I was hallucinating!

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass capped them, all right, biatch? We've been followin a sloppy trail of corpses, n' it leadz straight ta you, biatch.

 **LUCY  
** No. Fuck dat shit, it wasn't real! Dat shiznit was tha sticky-icky-icky! Please biaaatch! Please, you gotta help me biaaatch!

SAM jerks his head at DEAN, they both step outta tha room.

 **LUCY  
** Fuck dat shit, no.

 **SAM**  
(in tha next room)  
Skanky girl.

 **DEAN  
** Us dudes aint gots a cold-ass lil chizzle.

SAM sighs, n' shakes his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN takes his crazy-ass machete back up in tha room

 **LUCY  
** No... please biaaatch!

She screams n' there be a thump. We stay up in closeup on SAM'S grill as da thug watches DEAN decapitate LUCY yo. Dude flinches.

 

 

**_INT yo. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY_ **

Da playa dat SAM n' DEAN rescued is up in a hospitizzle bed, a funky-ass bandage on his neck n' a I.V. up in his thugged-out arm. Two huntas impersonatin STD agents enter: GORDON n' KUBRICK.

 **GORDON  
** Sir. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. A few thangs bout tha attack.

 **MAN  
** I already talked ta tha cops.

 **GORDON**  
(flashin a funky-ass badge)  
Well, our asses aint cops. We STD.

 **MAN  
** STD?

 **KUBRICK  
** Yo ass betta describe yo' attacker?

 **MAN  
** Uh .... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch was crazy. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch had that, uh, super-PCP strength, you know, biatch? Biatch GNAWED on mah neck.

 **GORDON  
** And did da hoe bleed on yo slick ass?

 **MAN  
** On me son, biatch? No.

 **GORDON  
** In yo' grill, open wound, anything, biatch? Yo ass shizzle bout that?

 **MAN  
** Yeah, I be sure. Why do you ask?

 **GORDON  
** This biatch has a straight-up fucked up virus.

 **MAN  
** What, biatch? Biatch bit me up in tha neck!

 **KUBRICK  
** Da bite don't matter n' shit. Yo ass gotta straight-up ingest tha blood ta be infected.

 **MAN  
** (sighs up in relief)

 **GORDON  
** Dope thang, like a muthafucka. We'd have had ta bust a cap up in you, biatch.

(Da playa laughs nervously but GORDON just stares at him, dead straight-up n shit.)

 **GORDON  
** Da attack?

 **MAN  
** Bitch jumped me, then bit mah dirty ass. Then dem two muthafuckas found mah crazy ass n' chased her down tha alley.

 **GORDON  
** What did they look like?

 **MAN  
** Ah, I didn't git a phat look.

 **GORDON  
** Think.

 **MAN  
** One of dem was real tall.

GORDON turns n' gives KUBRICK a thugged-out darkly dope look.

 

 

**_EXT. BAR (SPIDER) - NIGHT_ **

SAM n' DEAN exit Spider, a cold-ass lil club wit red lights n' dope lil' playas drankin thangs. They look frustrated.

 **DEAN  
** That was a funky-ass big, fat waste of time.

 **SAM  
** Look, three blondes have gone missing, includin Lucy, all last sighted here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I be spittin some lyrics ta you, Dean, dis is tha hustlin ground.

Across tha way, DEAN sees a 30-suttin' playa duck tha fuck into a alley wit his thugged-out arm round a lil' blonde.

 **DEAN**  
(pointin dem up ta SAM)  
Hey.

 

 

**_EXT fo' realz. ALLEY - NIGHT_ **

In tha alley across from tha club, tha playa holdz up a thugged-out dropper full of red liquid, n' tha hoe giggles.

 **GIRL  
** Yo ass is sick. (laughing)

 **MAN  
** Yo ass ready, dopeie, biatch? One taste of this, you gonna never be tha same.

Dude raises tha dropper; she opens her grill n' sticks her tongue up ta catch tha drops. Before any can fall in, DEAN grabs tha manz arm, pulls it down, n' clocks his ass up in tha face. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pulls tha hoe away n' shoves her towardz tha grill of tha alley.

 **SAM  
** Git outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. go! go!

Da vampire hurls DEAN tha fuck into a funky-ass brick wall, then takes off at a run. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM goes over n' helps DEAN up.

 **SAM  
** Dean!

 **DEAN**  
(groans)  
I be good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Come on.

They take off afta tha vampire; as they hurtle round tha corner, tha vampire is nowhere up in sight. But facin them, glocks at they sides, is GORDON n' KUBRICK. GORDON raises his wild lil' freakadelic gun.

 


	3. ACT TWO

**_EXT fo' realz. ALLEY - NIGHT_ **

GORDON n' KUBRICK advance, firin freely. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN dive behind parked rides n' manage ta entirely stay tha fuck away from gettin shot. They duck behind a wall n' crouch, panting. GORDON n' KUBRICK reload.

 **DEAN  
** All right. Run. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be bout ta draw dem off.

 **SAM  
** What?! Fuck dat shit, you crazy!

Ignorin him, DEAN darts up tha fuck into tha line of fire, leaps on top of a cold-ass lil hoopty n' uses it ta git over a second-story parkin lot entrance. KUBRICK bigs up him; GORDON stays behind n' headz fo' where SAM had been hidin fo' realz. As he roundz a cold-ass lil corner, a gangbangin' figure leaps down on his ass from above, bustin his ass sprawling: it is tha VAMPIRE yo. Dude kicks GORDON up in tha grill nuff muthafuckin times n' knocks his ass out.

 

 

**_INT MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT_ **

SAM is pacin alone, worried. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN enters.

 **SAM  
** There yo ass is!

 **DEAN**  
(unconcerned)  
Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry, I stopped fo' a slice.

 **SAM  
** Sick move you pulled back there, Dean hustlin right all up in tha weapons!

 **DEAN**  
Well, what tha fuck can I say, biatch? I be a funky-ass bad-ass.  
(he continues ta ignore SAM'S worry-face)  
So, I guess Gordonz outta tha slamma.

 **SAM  
** Uh, yeah, I guess so. Yo ass know, how tha fuck tha hell did he know where ta find us?

 **DEAN**  
(realizing)  
That biiiatch.  
(Dude pulls up his cell beeper n' dials)  
Yea muthafucka, Bela.

 **BELA**  
(on tha phone, while driving)  
Yo muthafucka, Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Question fo' you, biatch. When you called mah crazy ass yesterday, it wasn't ta give props ta me fo' savin yo' ass, was it?

 **BELA (unabashed)  
** No. Gordon Walker paid mah crazy ass ta tell his ass where you were.

 **DEAN  
** Excuse me son?

 **BELA (laughing)  
** Well, dat schmoooove muthafucka had a glock on mah dirty ass. What else was I supposed ta do?

 **DEAN (raisin his voice up in anger)  
** I don't give a fuck, maybe pick up tha beeper n' tell our asses dat a ragin psychopath was droppin by?!!

 **BELA  
** Ah. I did straight-up intend ta call, I just gots a lil' bit sidetracked.

 **DEAN  
** Dude tried ta bust a cap up in us!

 **BELA (rolls her eyes)  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. i didn't realize dat shiznit was such big-ass deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack fo' realz. Afta all, there be two of y'all n' one of his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** There was two of dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **BELA (her grill falls)  
** Oh.

 **DEAN  
** Bela, if we make it outta dis kickin it, tha straight-up original gangsta thang I'ma do is bust a cap up in you, biatch.

 **BELA  
** Yo ass aint straight-up n shit.

 **DEAN  
** Listen ta mah voice n' tell me if I be straight-up n shit.

Dude hangs up; up in her car, BELA looks at her beeper a moment n' sighs worriedly.

 

 

**_INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT_ **

Da VAMPIRE'S lair be a thugged-out dank abandoned storefront wit a neon sign outside readin "TRADE CO". Inside, GORDON is tied spread-eagled ta a metal bedframe yo. Dude painfully regains consciousnizz yo. Dude looks across tha room n' can peep candles, some armchairs, n' two lil' blonde dem hoes up in bloodstained white shirts strung up in shackles, danglin from they wrists, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. They move sluggishly. Da VAMPIRE entas wit a jar of blood.

 **VAMPIRE**  
(approachin tha straight-up original gangsta biatch n' feedin her tha blood, which she gulps desperately)  
I know you uncomfortable... but dis is just temporary. Da hunger will pass, n' then you gonna feel much mo' betta n' shit. (Dude moves onto tha second biatch n' notices GORDON watchin his muthafuckin ass.)  
(to GORDON:) Yo ass be awake.

 **GORDON  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is they?

 **VAMPIRE  
** Family.

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass always keep yo' crew up in shackles?

 **VAMPIRE  
** We still gettin ta know each other n' shit. They have just been reborn.

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass mean you grabbed some skanky hoes off tha street n' made dem monstas like you, biatch.

 **VAMPIRE  
** I do what tha fuck I have to. We a thugged-out dyin breed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But then, you know that, don't you Gordon, biatch? Gordon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Walker n' shit. One of tha top billin livin vampire hunters.

 **GORDON  
** In tha flesh.

 **VAMPIRE  
** Yo ass be a funky-ass big-ass part of why mah playas is nearly extinct, Gordon.

 **GORDON (scoffs)  
** Yo crazy-ass "people" is goin extinct cuz you a funky-ass bunch of mindless, bloodthirsty muthafuckas.

 **VAMPIRE**  
(lifts his hand ta his fuckin lips, sniffin ... blood?)  
(laughs briefly)  
Right. We so much mo' bloodthirsty than you, biatch yo. Hustlas slaughtered mah entire nest like they was havin a party. Murdered mah daughter n' shit. I can't rap how tha fuck satisfyin dis is... catchin a hunta responsible fo' all kindsa muthafuckin dirtnaps n' makin you lunch fo' mah freshly smoked up daughters.

Da VAMPIRE shows GORDON a print of a sepia-toned photograph or daguerrotype of a biatch up in pre-20th century garb, presumably his fuckin lil' daughter.

 **GORDON**  
(scoffing)  
"Daughters?" Try "fang whores."

 **VAMPIRE  
** Watch yo' grill.

 **GORDON  
** Oh, did I hurt yo' vibe, biatch? I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. I forgot you just a misunderstood victim. Even though you cappin' n' spread yo' filthy disease on pure base instinct. Yo ass gots less humanitizzle than a sewer rat.

 **VAMPIRE  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka you have such a low opinion of mah people.

 **GORDON  
** Oh, you have no idea.

Da VAMPIRE is tremblin wit anger n' shit.

 **VAMPIRE**  
(to tha blonde freshly smoked up vampires)  
Sorry, chizzle of plans. I be bout ta be goin up ta git yo' lunch. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I gots a funky-ass betta scam fo' you, biatch.

Dude takes a knife n' slices open GORDON'S arm, then his own, n' presses tha cuts together n' shit. GORDON strugglez n' stares up in horror.

 **GORDON**  
No! No! No!!  
NOOOOO!!!!

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT_ **

DEAN sharpens his crazy-ass machete on a whetstone while SAM cleans a glock beside his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** That vampirez still up there, Dean.

 **DEAN  
** First thangs first.

 **SAM  
** Gordon.

 **DEAN  
** Bout dis shit. When we find him, or if he findz us... Well I be just sayin he not leavin our asses a whole lot of options.

 **SAM**  
(calmly)  
Yeah, I know. We've gots ta bust a cap up in his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN**  
Really, biatch? Just like that, biatch? I thought you would done been like,   
(mock-whiny voice)  
"Fuck dat shit, we can't, dat schmoooove muthafucka human, itz wrong."

 **SAM (shrugs)  
** Fuck dat shit, I be done. I mean, Gordonz not gonna stop until our phat asses dead as fuckin fried chicken... or till he is.

DEANz cell beeper rings; he looks at it, scowls, n' picks up angrily.

 **DEAN  
** What?!

 **BELA**  
(on tha other end, still driving)  
I don't like it when playas hold grudges against me, n' mo' ta tha point, I'd rather you didn't bust a cap up in me, so I went ahead n' found Gordonz exact location fo' you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be a hundred milez away yo. How tha fuck tha hell did you-

 **BELA  
** Hello, biatch? Purveyor of bangin occult objects, biatch? I used a poppin' off board ta contact tha other side.

 **DEAN  
** And?

 **BELA  
** Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.

 **DEAN  
** Thanks.

 **BELA  
** One mo' thang. Da spirit had a message fo' you, biatch. "Leave town, run like hell, n' whatever you do, don't go afta Gordon." For whatever thatz worth.

DEAN looks all up in tha beeper thoughtfully.

 

 

**_INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT_ **

GORDON awakens again; dis time dat schmoooove muthafucka hangin by his wrists from tha ceiling. Da followin scene is shown from GORDON'S POV as lights n' noises become overwhelmin yo. His eyes is bloodshot yo. Dude strugglez wit his chains, rippin dem outta tha ceilin afta all dem tries fo' realz. As he unwindz dem from his wrists, tha dem hoes (also still chained up yo, but apparently without superstrong vampirizzle like GORDON got) beg pitifully.

 **WOMAN  
** Please... Help us. Please.

 

 

**_EXT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT_ **

Cut to: GORDON struttin outside yo. Dude flinches at every last muthafuckin sudden light n' sound, stares up at a loudly buzzing, glaringly bright street lamp yo. Dude covers his wild lil' fuckin ears up in agony as a cold-ass lil hoopty passes him, trailin red light behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

Across tha alley da perved-out muthafucka sees a playa crouched up in front of his car, changin a tire. GORDON strugglez wit temptation, then staggers over ta a window n' leans against it, pantin yo. Dude looks up at his bangin reflection up in tha glass n' bares his cold-ass teeth; fangs emerge ta fill his crazy-ass grill.

Cut to: Da playa finishes changin tha tire n' gets up in his car. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Before his schmoooove ass can start tha ignition, GORDON sits up suddenly up in tha back seat n' grabs tha playa from behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! From outside, our crazy asses hear tha playa scream, n' peep tha hoopty shake violently n' a spray of blood stain tha windshield.


	4. ACT THREE

INT. WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN creep down tha steps tha fuck into tha room where GORDON had been held. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da bodiez of tha hoes is still hanging, headless, n' tha VAMPIRE is kneelin up in front of them, tears hustlin down his wild lil' face. DEAN takes a knife from tha table n' approaches his ass slowly; dat schmoooove muthafucka hears DEAN comin but don't move.

 **VAMPIRE  
** Go ahead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Do dat shit. KILL mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** What happened here?

 **VAMPIRE  
** Gordon Walker n' shit. I never should have brought a hunta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Never n' shit. I just... I just wanted some kind of revenge. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stupid... exposin his ass ta mah crew.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah, you such a cold-ass lil crew man.

 **VAMPIRE**  
(pause)  
Yo ass don't understand.

 **DEAN  
** I don't wanna understand, you lil hustla of-

 **VAMPIRE  
** I was desperate biaaatch! Yo ass eva felt desperate, biatch? (shot of DEANz face) I've lost mah playas I eva loved. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be starin down eternitizzle ridin' solo. (shot of DEANz face) Yo ass betta be thinkin of a worse hell?

 **DEAN  
** Well, there be a Hell.

 **VAMPIRE  
** I wasn't thinking. I just ... I didn't care no mo'. Do you know itz like when you just don't give a thugged-out damn, biatch? It aint nuthin but like ... itz like bein dead already. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So just go ahead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! (looks down at DEANz knife) Do dat shit.

 **SAM**  
(inspectin tha headless bodies)  
Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Head wasn't cut off, dat shiznit was ripped off. With one of mah thugss bare hands. Dixon, what tha fuck did you do ta Gordon?

 

 

**_INT. KUBRICK'S MOTOR HOME - NIGHT_ **

KUBRICK hears a noise, pulls back tha curtains ta look outside. When tha pimpin' muthafucka turns round again, GORDON is there, starin at his muthafuckin ass.

 **KUBRICK**  
(cautiously)  
Gordon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass aiiight?

 **GORDON  
** Not even close.

 **KUBRICK  
** I thought maybe you was dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. (GORDON scoffs.) What tha fuck iz it?

 **GORDON  
** Somethang ... happened.

 **KUBRICK  
** What?

 **GORDON  
** They turned mah dirty ass.

 **KUBRICK  
** 'They' dem fangs, biatch? (pause) I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Yo ass know what tha fuck dis means.

 **GORDON**  
It means you gotta bust a cap up in mah dirty ass.   
(grabbin his ass by tha shoulders)  
But not yet.

 **KUBRICK  
** What do you mean?

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass gotta let me do one last thang first

 **KUBRICK  
** What?

 **GORDON  
** Bust a cap up in Sam Winchester.

 **KUBRICK  
** Gordon...

 **GORDON  
** It aint nuthin but tha only... it is tha one phat thang ta come outta dis nightmare. I be stronger, I be fasta- I can finish his muthafuckin ass.

 **KUBRICK  
** Gordon ... I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Yo ass know I can't let you strutt outta here.

 **GORDON  
** Listen ta mah dirty ass. There aint a god damn thang mo' blingin. Please. (pause, GORDON strutts n' faces tha crucifix) I can do one last phat thang fo' tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass.

GORDON is facin tha crucifix on tha wall; behind him, outta sight, KUBRICK carefully reaches fo' his crazy-ass machete. GORDON hears KUBRICK'S ass rate increase.

 **KUBRICK  
** Yeah. I hear you, biatch. Yo ass know, Gordon, you right. One last phat thang.

KUBRICK approaches wit tha blade, n' all up in tha last moment GORDON turns, rollin his hand tha fuck into KUBRICK'S guts yo. Dude pulls his wild lil' freakadelic gory hand up n' stares at it; KUBRICK slumps forward onto his shoulder n' shit.

 **GORDON**  
(whispered)  
I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit.

 

 

**_INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT_ **

DEAN entas tha room, frustrated, n' removes his jacket. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM is seated all up in tha table, porin over maps.

 **DEAN  
** Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses ...

 **SAM  
** Yeah, me like a muthafucka. Big hood.

 **DEAN**  
(washin his wild lil' grill up in tha sink)  
It aint nuthin but like a giant haystack, n' Gordonz a thugged-out deadly needle. We hustlin outta daylight. Won't have tha sun slowin his ass down.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, he'll be unstoppable. Yo, uh, give me yo' phone.

 **DEAN  
** What for?

 **SAM**  
(pullin up tha SIM cardz from his thugged-out n' DEANz phones)  
Well, if Gordon knows our cell numbers his schmoooove ass can use tha cell signal ta track our asses down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Oh, yeah. (handz beeper over) Thanks.

SAM stomps on both phones as DEAN looks up tha curtains. DEAN strutts back wit a sense of purpose.

 **DEAN  
** Sammy, stay here.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Where you goin now?

 **DEAN**  
(pullin tha COLT outta his bag n' checkin it)  
I be goin afta Gordon.

 **SAM  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass heard mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** Not alone, you not.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, I don't need you ta sign me a permission slip, aiiight, biatch? Dat punk afta you, not me, n' tha pimpin' muthafucka turbocharged. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I want you ta stay outta harmz way. I be bout ta take care of dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Well, Dean, you not goin by yo ass. Yo ass is gonna git yo ass capped!

 **DEAN  
** Just another dizzle all up in tha crib. It aint nuthin but a massively fucked up dizzle all up in tha crib (smirking)

 **SAM  
** So you tha muthafucka wit not a god damn thang ta lose now, huh, biatch? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, itz cuz you already dead, right?

 **DEAN  
** If tha shoe fits.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass know what, man, biatch? I be sick n' pissed wit yo' kamikaze trip

 **DEAN  
** Whoa, whoa, kamikaze, biatch? I be mo' like a ninja.

 **SAM  
** Thatz not funky.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but a lil funky.

 **SAM  
** No. It aint nuthin but not.

 **DEAN  
** What do you want me ta do, Sam, huh, biatch? Sit round all dizzle freestylin fucked up poems bout how tha fuck I'ma die, biatch? Yo ass know what, biatch? I gots one. Letz see, what tha fuck rhymes wit "shut tha fuck up, Sam"?

 **SAM  
** Dude, drop tha attitude, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Quit turnin every last muthafuckin thang tha fuck into a punch line fo' realz. And you know suttin' else, biatch? Quit tryin ta act like you not afraid

 **DEAN  
** I be not!

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is lyin fo' realz. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can peep right all up in you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass gots no clue what tha fuck you poppin' off about.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I do. Yo ass is scared, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass is scared cuz yo' year is hustlin out, n' you still goin ta Hell, n' you freaked.

 **DEAN  
** And how tha fuck do you know that?

 **SAM  
** Because I know you, nahmean biiiatch?

 **DEAN  
** Really?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I've been followin you round mah entire game biaaatch! I mean, I've been lookin up ta you since I was four, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Studyin you, tryin ta be just like mah big-ass brutha n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So yeah, I know you, biatch. Betta than any suckas up in tha entire ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! And dis is exactly how tha fuck you act when you terrified. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! And, I mean, I can't blame you, biatch. It aint nuthin but just... (pause)

 **DEAN  
** What?

 **SAM  
** I wish you would drop tha show n' be mah brutha again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 'Cause... (can't find lyrics; tears up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes) just 'cause.

 **DEAN**  
(afta a pause)  
All right, we'll hole up, cover our scent so his schmoooove ass can't track us, n' wait tha night up here.

 

 

LATER, DEAN barricades tha doors n' windows as SAM lights a funky-ass bundle of sage.

DEANz beeper rings.

 **SAM  
** You've had dat beeper two hours, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Who'd you give tha number to?

 **DEAN**  
Nobody.  
(picks up)  
Hello?

 **GORDON  
** Dean.

 **DEAN  
** How'd you git dis number?

 **GORDON  
** Yo crazy-ass scentz all over tha cellphone store. Of course, I can't smell you now, nahmeean, biatch? Where is yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Well, I guess you gonna just gotta find us, won't you, biatch.

 **GORDON  
** I'd rather you come ta me

 **DEAN  
** Whatz tha matter, Gordo, biatch? Yo ass aint afraid of us, is yo slick ass, biatch? Us playas just chillin here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Brin it on!

 **GORDON  
** I don't be thinkin so.

Dude holdz tha beeper up in front of a WOMAN whoz ass is his hostage.

 **WOMAN crying.  
** Please. Please.

 **GORDON**  
(takin tha beeper back n' shushin her)  
Factory on riverside off tha turnpike. Be here up in 20 minutes or tha hoe dies.

 **DEAN  
** Gordon, let tha hoe go.

 **GORDON  
** Bye, Dean.

 **DEAN  
** Gordon! Don't do all dis bullshit. Yo ass don't bust a cap up in innocent people. Yo ass is still a hunter.

 **GORDON  
** No. I be a monster.

 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. FACTORY - NIGHT

DEAN n' SAM find tha hostage n' untie her muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM**  
Yo, we gots you, biatch. Don't worry. We gonna git you outta here.  
(SAM helps her up)  
Git up. Watch yo' head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Watch yo' head.

Da biatch is sobbin n' can barely strutt, so DEAN slings her arm over his shouldaz n' picks her up.

 **DEAN  
** Sam, stay close.

SAM bigs up DEAN n' tha biatch closely yo, but not closely enough: a mechanized door suddenly slides down up in front of SAM, cuttin his ass off from tha others.

 **DEAN  
** Sam!

SAM n' DEAN both pound n' kick all up in tha door, ta no avail.

 **SAM  
** Dean!

 **DEAN  
** Damn it, Sam!

SAM poundz tha door one last time up in frustration, then turns n' strutts away from it, eyes dartin around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN (from tha other side of tha door)  
** Sam, be careful!

Da lights go out. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM freezes, brangs his crazy-ass machete up, n' starts creepin round wit his other arm held up blindly.

 **SAM  
** Gordon! Yo ass gots me where you want mah dirty ass. Yo ass might as well come up n' fight!

 **GORDON**  
(appearin behind him)  
I be right here, Sam. (SAM swings his crazy-ass machete; it swishes all up in tha air n' don't make contact. GORDON chuckles) Whatz tha matter, Sammy?

 **SAM  
** So, dis is straight-up tha way you wanna do it, huh?

 **GORDON  
** Damn right I do.

We peep SAM all up in GORDONz infrared vision, as SAM feels his way round tha room, up in what tha fuck is total darknizz fo' SAM.

 **GORDON (continuing)  
** Yo ass have no clue what tha fuck I faced ta git here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. I lost every last muthafuckin thang. My fuckin game. But itz worth it, 'cause I be finally gonna bust a cap up in da most thugged-out fucked up thang I eva hunted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. Yo ass aint human, Sam.

 **SAM  
** Look whoz rappin'.

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass is right. I be a funky-ass bloodthirsty killer.

GORDON continues ta stalk SAM, SAM whirlin bout up in tha dark, GORDON rockin his crazy-ass muthafuckin infrared vision.

 **SAM  
** Don't rap bout it like you aint gots a cold-ass lil chizzle.

 **GORDON  
** I don't.

 **SAM  
** Yes yes y'all, you do, Gordon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass didn't bust a cap up in dat girl.

 **GORDON  
** Fuck dat shit, I didn't. I did suttin' much, much worse.

 

  
MEANWHILE, on tha other side of tha door DEAN is still jackin away fo' realz. As tha pimpin' muthafucka tosses tha tool away up in frustration, tha hoe vamps up n' attacks, knockin his ass ta tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN digs up in his thugged-out lil' pocket n' pulls up tha COLT, n' fires a single cap tha fuck into her forehead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch convulses, juice crackling, n' slumps ta tha floor.

 

  
MEANWHILE, SAM is still feelin round blindly as GORDON taunts his muthafuckin ass.

 **GORDON  
** I gots ta hand it ta you, Sam. Yo ass gots a shitload of playas fooled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! But see, I know tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I know what tha fuck itz like. We tha same now, you n' mah dirty ass. I know how tha fuck it is struttin round wit suttin' evil inside you, biatch. It aint nuthin but just too shitty you won't do tha right thang n' bust a cap up in yo ass. I'ma ... as soon as I be done wit you, biatch. Two last phat deeds. Bustin' you, n' cappin' mah dirty ass.

While GORDON has been rappin', SAM has been backin tha fuck into a cold-ass lil corner, facin GORDON.

GORDON attacks, bustin dem both flyin all up in tha wall separatin dem from DEAN. Da impact briefly knocks tha machete outta SAMz hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM picks it up again, as GORDON picks SAM n' flings his ass across tha room. DEAN comes up from behind n' points tha COLT at GORDON'S head yo, but GORDON is too fast fo' him; he grabs DEAN'S gun-arm, flings his ass across tha room, then pins his ass against tha wall n' sinks his cold-ass teeth tha fuck into DEAN'S neck. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM picks his dirty ass up in time ta peep this.

 **SAM  
** No!

SAM charges GORDON n' clocks his ass across tha back of tha neck. GORDON turns away from DEAN n' knocks SAM down, then slams his ass across a worktable. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM manages ta grab a piece of cloth n' a end of razor wire up in each hand; as GORDON pins his ass down again n' again n' again SAM wraps tha razor wire round GORDON'S neck n' pulls. GORDON begins ta choke up a thugged-out dirtnap-rattle, n' SAM glares, grits his cold-ass teeth n' pulls harder n' shit. Blood drips from his handz where tha razor wire is cuttin in, n' yet he pulls harder, until his schmoooove ass cuts all tha way all up in GORDON'S neck n' sendz his head tumblin yo. Dude baggy-ass pants from tha effort, stares down at GORDON'S head on tha ground, n' examines his bloody hands.

DEAN staggers ta his wild lil' feet, groanin n' coughin n' clutchin his neck up in pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dat punk still holdin tha COLT yo. Dude looks down up in surprise all up in tha headless GORDON, then back up at SAM, whoz ass shrugs. They stumble off together, neither of dem movin straight-up well.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass just charged a super-vamped-out Gordon wit no weapon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Thatz a lil reckless, don't you think?

 


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT. TWO-LANE BLACKTOP- DAY

DEAN is under tha hood of tha IMPALA, pokin at something. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM opens a cold-ass lil coola n' pulls up two brews, then shuts tha lid n' sits on it yo. Dude opens one forty n' passes it ta DEAN. Stereo is playin BAD COMPANYz "Crazy-Ass Circles".

**SAM  
** Here you go.

**DEAN  
** Thanks.

**SAM  
** Figure up whatz makin dat rattle?

**DEAN  
** Not yet. Give me a funky-ass box wrench, would yo slick ass?

**SAM  
** Yeah. There you go.

**DEAN**  
Thanks.  
(he takes tha wrench, then looks thoughtful.  
Sam.

**SAM  
** Wrong one?

**DEAN  
** No no no, come here fo' a second.

**SAM**  
(gets up n' leans over tha hood wit DEAN.  
Yeah.

**DEAN**  
(gesturing)  
This rattle could be a cold-ass lil couple thangs. I be thankin itz a out-of-tune carb.

**SAM**  
(confused)  
Okay.

**DEAN**  
All right, peep dis thang, biatch? It aint nuthin but a valve cover n' shit. Inside is all tha parts dat is on tha head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Hand mah crazy ass dat socket wrench.   
(SAM do)  
All right, you wit me so far?

**SAM  
** Yeah, uh, valve cover covers tha heads.

**DEAN**  
Straight-up good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! Now dis is yo' intake manifold, aiiight, n' on top of it, biatch?   
(pauses)

**SAM**  
(smiling, tryin ta remember)  
It's, uh, uh, a cold-ass lil carburetor.

**DEAN  
** Carburetor.

**SAM  
** Yeah.

**DEAN  
** Straight-up good.

**SAM**  
Whatz wit tha auto shop?  
(Dean holdz up tha socket wrench)  
What, you don't mean you want-

**DEAN  
** Yeah, I do. Yo ass fix dat shit.

**SAM  
** Dean, you barely let me drive dis thang.

**DEAN  
** Well, itz time. Yo ass should know how tha fuck ta fix dat shit. Yo ass is gonna need ta know these thangs fo' tha future. (They peep each other.) And besides, thatz mah thang, right, biatch? Show mah lil brutha tha ropes?

SAM nodz n' takes tha wrench, swallowin wit some emotion, n' leans up in n' starts unscrewing. DEAN sits on tha coola n' turns slightly ta peep SAM.

**DEAN  
** Put yo' shoulder tha fuck into dat shit.


End file.
